BLUEMONT, VIRGINIA
151402RJUL31:
After a brief trip to the mess hall on Sublevel D to grab some lunch, Jessica went back to her assigned quarters to change into something more comfortable. After spending that torturous time in a dress uniform, it felt right, if not outright fantastic, to throw something much more familiar on, namely her Navy Working Uniform. At this point, she’d spent so much time in the familiar combat uniform, it felt more like a second skin than a uniform, and now that she was back in it, even if this one was the starched one meant for looks than for comfort, after the shitstorm earlier this morning, she would take what she could get.
Stepping off the elevator at Sublevel P, she briefly ran into two heavily armed Marines, these ones fully kitted out for combat as opposed to the ones from earlier who looked as though they were part of the (now legacy) White House detail. Initially, they gave her a wary glance despite her rank and budweiser, going by the book and thoroughly checking her ID against what was in the computer. Somehow, it brought up a brief of her record, and as the corporal at the desk realized who she was, she got brief apologies and was easily waved through.
It's funny how combat is the ultimate equalizer for those guys, she mused to herself as she continued down the blank, mostly featureless hallway. It’s clear they’ve been through shit, but they really don’t recognize anyone until they’ve been through the same shit as well. She’d briefly known a Marine like that; Cpt. Esteban Capirote had been a wealth of information and camaraderie back when she’d been an ensign and she’d been glad to know him. Last she’d heard, he’d been in the Battle of Riyadh, a costly victory that had taken the lives of most of the victorious US, Saudi and Egyptian troops there. She hoped he was one of the ones still standing.
Finally, she reached the first cross corridor, and still wondered why this hallway was so blank and sterile. But then she looked at the floor and that explained it all: there, embedded in the polished concrete were the crests of US Special Operations Command, the NSA and…the CIA.
“Cmdr. Aomori?” Jessica turned to look at a man a decade older than her as he approached. Despite his hair having slight tinges of gray, he had a youthful face and a part of her started to think of things that she probably shouldn’t have, especially given that the man wore ACUs and had the rank devices of a US Army colonel.
“Yes, that’s me, sir,” she said, saluting. Normally, Navy personnel didn’t salute while indoors, as it was policy not to do so while not wearing a hat – a cover, in Naval parlance – indoors, but she thought it was polite.
“No sirs, please,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m probably not much older than you. Col. Keith Richardson, Commander of Project FIRE AND RAIN. Have you had anything to eat yet? I know they had you tied up with the POTUS this morning.”
“Thank you, sir, but I already did before coming over.” She relaxed in his presence, feeling better, as he seemed to be the type of easygoing officer – which probably meant he was extremely lethal in combat, the kind of soldier she liked. “Ate at Cafeteria D.”
“You might want to try the smaller chow hall on Sublevel M next time,” he told her. “Cook there’s a Mesa Verde native like both of us, so he knows how to make those famous Mesa-style tacos.”
“You were from Mesa Verde, sir?”
“You can just call me Keith. I guess you’re Jessica?”
“Jess’s fine, Colonel – uh, Keith.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know, I’m not as stuffy as other full birds, and between you and me, sometimes I wonder if I should have been Air Force, instead. Anyway, yeah, I’m a Mesa Verde native, just like you. Was originally in the National Guard, stationed at the Joint Reserve Center over in Ute Mountain until Decimation happened.” He frowned, clearly a sign of loss though one that, like so many of them, were ones that weren’t quite papered over by time. “And I know you’ve heard this story all too often, but I lost my wife and daughter in that hell. My parents, younger sister and kid brother didn’t make it out of the MV, either.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay – it’s in the past now,” he said with a slight catch in his voice that said it wasn’t entirely in the past for him. “Anyway, you know why we’re here, and now that you’re onboard, you probably know more than I do about all of this.” He began walking, gesturing for her to follow. “By the way, good call on chewing out President Lucas.”
“You saw that?”
“I was in the back of the room when it happened. And truthfully, I voted for Sen. Thorne as well, so I know how you feel. Anyway, we have a lot to do, and while I’m sure you have more of an idea of what’s going on than I do, they’ve decided to use this special mission group for whatever this plan of yours is. There’s a few of these groups, and even I don’t know what’s going on with them. Regardless, we’ve been directed to pivot to your needs, though obviously you won’t be in charge – that’s my headache.”
“That works for me,” she admitted. “I shoot tangos and break things, not come up with battle plans.”
“Trust me, I get you. I’m a field guy myself, and even though I’ve been assigned to this position for over a year now, I still don’t quite get how everything works. But I can say that if you’re used to black operations, welcome to the really black ones, the kind that are unclassified.”
“Unclassified?”
He grinned. “Unclassified – because you can’t assign a classification to something that doesn’t exist.” With that, he opened a nondescript door whose only marking was FAR PLANNING GROUP.
“Welcome to your new world,” he told her, ushering her in.
As they entered the room, a woman in a business suit strode up to him; she had long dark hair, green eyes that seemed to be both friendly and piercing at the same time, and skin like dark honey. There was something about her that reminded Jess of Sarah, both in the friendly department and the don’t fuck with her department as well. Looking briefly at Jessica, she said, “So this is the reason that our group got pulled off of the whole long-range study of the operations at Mesa Verde?”
“We didn’t get pulled off that,” he reminded her. “It’s just that the Admiral thought it would be prudent to tie in this new initiative along with whatever is going on there as well. Plus, ultimately it will be our duty to work on it one way or another.” He gestured towards the woman. “Anyway, this is our—”
She laughed, the sound a musical tone. Offering her hand to Jessica, she said, “Hi, I’m Chrysalis Narcis. I’m the CIA liaison for this project. I also run – and sometimes run with – the Laundromat, aka CIA Special Activities Group 3.” She then hooked a thumb at Keith. “Oh, and I sleep with this guy on a regular basis.”
Jessica blinked at the non-sequitur. “That’s…an original way of introducing yourself.”
Keith, meanwhile, facepalmed. “You just had to go there, didn’t you, Chrys?”
In response, she handed him a tablet. “We just got authorization for the field supply drop into the MV; it was deployed an hour ago, so we’ll see how that goes. Additionally, we got the authorization to move this project off the Mountain and good thing as well, as we’re going to need the space if we’re bringing aboard a platoon of SEALs.” Still somewhat irritated, he took the tablet and huffed, which only made her laugh more. “Oh, my dear, precious little boy scout – don’t ever change,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. Turning back to Jessica, she said, “Don’t mind me; I’m the resident chaos bringer around here, since someone has to fill that role. I guess he keeps me around because of my stunning good looks, my intelligence assets, and the fact that we’re engaged. But I didn’t get your name, Commander. You are?”
Jessica laughed; this place was odd, but it was odd in a good way. “Jess Aomori. Nice to meet you,” she replied. “Anyway, you said you were SAD?”
“Yup, CIA Special Activities Group 3, nasty bastards that get stuck doing everything from espionage to assassinations and all the stuff our government officially disavows. The President wants to put serious muscle behind this, so guess what? Your folks are the ones who break things, and we’re the ones who people will wish broke things instead.”
“I may be wrong, but isn’t that technically illegal?” Jess said with a grin.
“It’s only illegal if you get caught and Congress hasn’t approved it,” Chrysalis stated in a glib, matter-of-fact tone. “Anyway, you two showed up just in time, as SIGINT got a message that originated out of the MV, and we have it on audio over on that computer over there.”
“Wait – Mesa Verde?” Jessica asked. “Why do we have a satellite over the MV? It wasn’t exactly a town brimming with super importance to the nation. It’d be like wasting a lot of hardware just watching Pittsburgh.”
“Honestly, I’d be inclined to agree,” Keith agreed, “but something’s been going on there as of late and an old Cuban spy sat caught the information and they sent it to us. And with the addition of what the President has now tasked us with because of your revelations, I’d say the place became a lot more important than Pittsburgh.”
Chrysalis then chimed in. “In any case, Mesa Verde was being watched even before you showed up. Apparently, something’s going on over there and it set off enough alarm bells to catch the attention of los Cubanos, so FAR was assigned to keep tabs on the MV regardless. Your addition to the fun just bumped it up in importance.” Chrysalis led them over to a nearby desk, then hit the keyboard spacebar on the computer, starting the message, and audio began to play. The tone of the speaker was clearly that of one who barely trusted authority, something Jessica was all too familiar with.
“My name is Byron, and I’m speaking on behalf of the Mesa Verde Militia. Normally I wouldn’t bother with you assholes since you abandoned us, but maybe the thousands of people still trying to survive in the hellhole our city’s become doesn’t mean shit to you jackboots either.”
Chrysalis paused the message. “I figure you already know this, Jess, but during Decimation, any city with a population of over a million people was wiped off the map. Every country, including us, had to abandon a lot of people to protect as many as we could. Needless to say, the administration didn’t exactly have a shining moment as a result of that.”
“Anyway, the reason I’m contacting you government thugs is because we have reason to believe that the aliens are doing something around the ruins of Eastbury. Don’t know why, but they seem to think it’s important, and numerous portals have been seen there.”
“Portals?”
“The wormholes they use for mass transportation,” Keith explained. “At least I think they’re wormholes; the science guys over in Annex 2 are still working on trying to figure it out. I suspect they don’t really know themselves and are just trying to cover their own asses.”
Byron continued. “I don’t know what’s going on there, but I sent my best scout to check it out. Now all I need is for you assholes to come and smash the place before they kill more of us! We want people evacuated out of here for their own safety.” The look in the man’s eyes softened. “Some of the women here, like my wife, are pregnant, and I don’t want her caught in the crossfire. I’m waiting for a response, but I get a feeling I’m never going to get one. Prove me wrong. Byron out.”
“And that’s that,” Chrysalis said. “Thoughts?”
“I think I know that person,” Jessica admitted.
“Oh?”
“If it’s who I think it is, it could go good or could go very, very bad,” she admitted. “I think it’s a kid I used to babysit when I was younger. By the time I left town, he was already a teenager and getting into things he shouldn’t have.”
“Like what? Are we talking simple truancy or drug dealing?”
“Nothing that bad, but his sister caught him once with topless pictures of me,” she admitted with a slight blush. “He used a drone to take them through my window. His mother made him delete the pictures and he was grounded, but I think he held a grudge against me for that. Maybe my familiarity with him might help in this case, or maybe make it worse.”
“Jess, no offense, but from what it sounds like, if you’re right, I doubt he’ll be willing to play ball because he thought you had nice tits,” Chrysalis replied. “Plus, as I already mentioned, I have a team in position.”
“How do you have a team in position? I thought the CIA wasn’t supposed to work in-country.”
“Old rules. They kinda got tossed out the window when the population got dropped from 330 million to barely over 28, thanks to the Octos. New rules give us permission to go anywhere we need to, but only in-country with the President’s say-so. So far, he hasn’t said anything against it.” She grinned. “Remember what I said about illegalities? I wasn’t kidding.”
Jessica turned to her boss. “Keith, this is war, not spycraft – the CIA folks might be good at what they do, but you know there’s violence and then there’s war. Besides, if I’m right, he knows me, and because of that, I might be able to reason with him. Show him that the military’s here for everyone, and we’re doing the best we can to protect the nation and the world.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“That’s a thought. Any others?”
“Yeah, the obvious one: if they’re massing down in Eastbury, there’s a reason why they went there, and I have a sneaking suspicion that has to do with Tessa. Don’t ask me how I know; it’s a wild-ass guess, to be honest. But in a city that had little strategic value, the Eastbury neighborhood has absolutely zero value whatsoever. Regardless, it’s all I’ve got to go on, off the top of my head.”
Keith was silent for the longest time before adding, “This was already in planning to some degree, Jess, but I’m not sending you in alone. How quickly do you think your team can be ready to move in?”
“We’re SEALs – we were ready yesterday. All I need to do is contact the Miller and have them shipped out. I’m sure the rest of DEVGRU can do without us.”
“Let me speak to your captain, then; I’m sure putting the Joint Chiefs’ shoulderboards behind it will ease any rough spots. As for your plan, if we can get this militia on our side, maybe it’ll make things better for us. Lord knows the war can’t get any worse.”
Chrys thought about it for a second. “Given their attitude, if you’re going to go in guns blazing, you’re going to have to make sure they know those guns aren’t pointed at them. And obviously while we know they’re not, you heard that guy. They’ve been stewing on their own for years now and they don’t trust much of anyone. So, it’s going to have to be more than just a military operation. Fortunately, I know a few ways to win hearts and minds.”
“Add a humanitarian component?” Jessica suggested.
“Yup, you’ll fit right in,” Keith said, thinking the same thing. “Maybe get some medics to go with us?”
Chrysalis smiled as her fingers danced over the keyboard. “Already on it. There’s one in the general area, an Army field hospital – the 10th FH – seconded to the 4th Infantry Division. They’re down in Oklahoma, a place by the name of Keyes. They’re set up for that kind of stuff already and can probably field a medical team to assist.”
“The Fourth? That’s Tom Karnstein’s unit. I know that guy,” Keith said. “We went through Ranger school together, and I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to work with us.”
“Bet he doesn’t have as cute a tush as you do,” Chrysalis said absently. “Anyway, they’re our best bet.”
“I’ll get in touch with him to see what he can do for us; if needed, I’ll get the Admiral involved,” Keith told them. “How’s that list of personnel expansion looking, Chrys? We’ve got few people as it is, but we’re clearly going to need more.”
“Good luck with that; every unit’s just about shorthanded nowadays,” Jessica replied matter-of-factly. “In the meanwhile, anything I can do right now?”
“Yeah, get settled in and then get your folks out here. If I know Adm. Lewis, she doesn’t like to fuss about and that means that the moment all of this comes together, we’re going to have to move fast, especially if the Octos are already two steps ahead of us.”
=+=
MESA VERDE, COLORADO
151529TJUL31:
“Ares, this is Athena. Do you read me? Over.” The voice came over the line as tinny and a little bit garbled but was still overall understandable. Besides, the fact that it wasn’t in the best of situations gave the extra bonus of preventing them from being identified by voiceprint.
In a battered room, Byron flipped a switch, bringing his station to life. “Yeah, Athena, read you loud and clear,” he said into the microphone. “What’s the sitch?”
“The usual shit: we’ve got the freaks crawling all up in our asses,” the person codenamed Athena replied. “Lost two people trying to recover the remaining medical supplies from Westside Hospital, but we managed to do so. But given that we gave as good as we got there, I guarantee they’re going to level the place soon, so if we’re going to get whatever’s left out of there, it’s going to have to be now.”
“Fuck.” Byron groaned; he did not need this shit today. “Okay, I’ll talk to Zeus and see if they can deploy teams to back you up. Should be worth the risk, and hopefully we can do this without losing anyone else.”
“Fine, but I could just settle for a beer right now,” came the response. “You know if Daisy managed to get her mother’s old brewery working?”
“You know the rules, Athena – no real names or locations in the clear. We don’t know if they can understand us or what they can get from our traffic.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. While we’re at it, who the hell chose Greek names? Why didn’t we go with something cool, like Cougar or Shark or something? Now as for me, I can see myself as a panther, sleek and hot and all.”
Despite the situation, he laughed; leave it to her to bitch about the trivial things. “Sure, whatever. Anyway, just standby for further instructions, Athena. Ares out.”
He cut the line and sat there for a few seconds in contemplative silence, running his hands through his hair. It was getting a little too long again, and he knew she hated that; she was probably going to insist on cutting it again. He smiled, however; she adored doing little things for him like that. It was just a part of their marriage…or what they would have, if they were technically married.
Doesn’t matter to me, though, he thought to himself as he leaned back in his chair. I’ve got her and I’ve got her for life. He then got up from his chair and walked over to another desk, one that had a battered laptop as its centerpiece. The laptop was still running lines of code for a project, and it had been a small miracle that the thing, state-of-the-art five years ago, hadn’t yet overheated, especially from the code it was compiling. He would likely never achieve his dream of being a videogame developer, but at least he knew enough about code that he could put it to use to defend the lives here. And given the situation, life in what was left of Mesa Verde certainly needed defending, now more than ever.
“Byron?” He turned to see a vision of loveliness approach: fair skin, light brown hair in a short pixie style, and the most gorgeous spring green eyes he’d ever seen. He had to admit, while his first experience with girls was his sister’s best friend, it paled compared to the situation before him. While that girl was cute as hell, his wife was stylish and outright sexy, even in her current pregnant condition. He was lucky as hell that he had her.
He walked over to her, sweeping her into his arms. “Oh, hey, honey, what’s up?”
She gave him a loving smile, patting her sizable belly. “The baby kicked, and I just couldn’t sleep anymore,” she stated. She then pouted and added, “But I feel a little guilty about not being out there where I’m needed.”
“You don’t have anything to prove, love. I know you’re brave – everyone knows that. But sometimes remaining behind is the brave part. After all, someday our child is going to wake up to a world that’ll need peacemakers and people who forge the future. And someone once told me being a mother is the bravest thing of all.”
She kissed him. “You are such a bullshit artist, you know that?” she giggled.
“Hey, I managed to talk you into my life and my bed, right? Must be doing something right.”
She shrugged. “Hey, if you want the bloating, morning sickness and looking like a beached whale in the Rockies, I’ll be more than happy to trade with you,” she said with a grin before walking over to the workshop table as something caught her eye. Looking at the laptop screen, she asked, “What’s this?”
“I’m working on code to see if we can scramble our communications further. The Council’s concerned that our communication is too easy to break and given what we’re working with, I’m hard pressed to disagree. Hopefully I should be able to come up with something that should meet our needs. Hopefully it’ll keep the aliens off our backs. Even better if it keeps Washington off our backs as well.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Yes, and so does Zeus. He and Hades both concur on that – neither has any real love lost for those supposedly in charge of our nation. Assuming, of course, there’s still a nation beyond our walls and the outside world doesn’t look like that old Australian post-apocalypse film series.”
She frowned, not looking up at him as she continued to look at the screen. “Still with the codenames? We’re in private, Byron – you know you don’t need to use them.”
“Sorry, trying to keep in the habit so I can get the others to do so,” he admitted. “We’ve been too lax with radio discipline as of late and that puts everyone at risk. And to be honest, I’m especially worried about you. You still have some enemies out there, you know.”
“Had some enemies,” she admitted. “I mean, look, I arrested Alice years ago and she swore up and down that she’d put a bullet in my head the first chance she got. Now, she’s probably one of my closest friends.”
“Just because some people change doesn’t mean that everyone does,” he reminded her. “Some people don’t see you as Mia Harper, former platoon leader. They see you as Mia Harper, former cop.”
“Fair enough,” she began. He was about to say something else when she suddenly held her hand up. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
With the practiced, catlike movements of someone used to padding around, despite her girth Mia leaned up against the wall, pausing only to grab a pistol from a nearby shelf. Byron took note of that immediately and rushed over to grab his carbine. As he joined her, she asked, “Can you hear it now?”
“Jet engine, or sounds like it,” he told her. “But there hasn’t been anything around—”
“—since Decimation,” she finished for him. She took a chance and peeked out the window, watching an arrow-shaped aircraft pass by in the sky above. “Aircraft of some kind.”
He grabbed a nearby pair of binoculars and looked out the window. “Looks like a delta-wing with fuselage integration. Tail is minimal and based on the configuration, might be a ramjet,” he spoke out loud. “Too small to be a fighter. Drone, maybe?”
“Why would anyone send a drone out here, unless—”
The familiar whine of a plasma blast split the air, and a thick beam of energy lanced into the blue above, burning through the drone’s right wing and fuselage. The machine immediately plummeted from the sky, leaving a trail of thick black smoke in its wake as it headed towards the ground.
“Get to the radio,” she told him, going back to the binoculars. “Have someone check it out.”
“In broad daylight?”
“We don’t have a choice,” she reminded him, lifting the binoculars to get a closer look at the smoke. “Looks like it crashed out by Greenvale Park – if we can get some of our folks there before the Octos do, we might be able to set up an ambush.”
“I don’t like this,” he told her. “I’m not sure we should bother chasing after a broken recon drone.”
“That drone had to be there for more than just recon, Byron!” she told him. “The government had to know it would be shot down, otherwise they would’ve flown it at night or used satellites. I think they’re trying to get a message to us.”
“I hope you’re right,” he told her as he flopped back in front of the radio. “Ares to anyone in the field. I need someone close to Greenvale Park.”
A few seconds went by before a new voice came over the line. “This is Atropos. Was busy trying to get some sleep before I went hunting tonight. What’s up?”
“We just had what looks like a drone shootdown in Greenvale Park. Can you check it out?”
There was a rustle in the background, followed by the voice again. “Yeah. Give me a second to get dressed and I’ll head out there. Get a hold of some others and we might be able to set up an ambush in case the freaks are thinking the same thing.”
He reached over for a notepad and looked at some scribbled notes. “Way ahead of you. Poseidon might be in the area, so I’ll see what he can do.”
“Ain’t Aphrodite or Bia on right now?”
“Yeah but given the incident at the old hospital, it wouldn’t surprise me if Zeus is sending them to back Athena up.”
“Well, it is what it is,” was the response. “We’ll make do and report to you what goes down. Atropos out.”
“We’ll be waiting. Ares, out.” He then rushed over to the door, pausing only to kiss Mia. “Okay, I’m heading over to talk to Zeus. Can you handle things?”
“I can probably get there faster than you, even while pregnant,” she protested.
“I’m not going to risk you or the baby,” he told her in a firm voice. “Besides, I have a feeling that I might have to get out there and look at that drone in person. You might be able to outshoot me, but I’m the tech guy and a drone might mean my expertise is needed more than yours.”
She gave him a worried look. “Just…be careful. You remember what happened last week.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise,” he told her. “I’m not going to leave you as a widow, not now, not ever.” Kissing her one last time, he then headed out the door of their surprisingly-still intact apartment.
Mia watched as he went to the ruined street, then started moving through cover. He moved exactly as she had taught him, but even still, she worried. Her knuckles went white as she gripped the windowsill as she watched the man she loved risk his life – when she knew it was her job to do that, not his. She placed a hand on her stomach, briefly hating herself and Byron for being stupid enough to bring a new life into this world, when there might not be a future for their child.
She recalled last week and the bawling, horrified pregnant woman she had to hold as she delivered the bad news.
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what Eric told Stacy the last time he saw her,” Mia said to herself in a sad tone, trying to convince herself everything would be okay in the end.
She never could.
=+=
BLUEMONT, VIRGINIA
151942RJUL31:
One thing that had always been a constant with Jessica was that as far back as she could remember, she’d always been used to hard work. Even before her Navy days, back when she was just a fashion-obsessed girl, she’d always made sure she focused on her art and design and kept abreast of the latest trends, even when there was no real need to. And back when she’d been in bootcamp or BUDS or just daily training, when others bitched about getting up at the ass-crack of dawn, she was already at it. The difference now was that the exertion was more physical than mental.
So now that she had the chance to PT outside of the geofront, she joined the FEMA security personnel, Marines and various hard cases whose job it was to be at the peak of physical perfection. At first, they tried to take it easy on her, given that for the average female servicemember the physical fitness standards tended to be less than that of their male counterparts. That “handicap” vanished within a few minutes as they soon realized that she was a SEAL, which meant she was required to have the exact same requirements as her fellow male SEALs – and those were much tougher than just about anyone present.
And now here they were, forty-five minutes later, and those others were now struggling to keep up with her, much to her silent amusement. A few others, however, actually did; the fact that most of them were Marines was to be expected. However, the real surprise was Chrysalis, who kept up with her with relative ease.
“Why does that surprise you?” Chrysalis asked Jessica once they wound down. “Remember, I’m Agency Special Activities – we’re trained much the same way as any SPECOPS person because the amount of shit we do is so similar. Hell, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m happy working for the Company, I’d probably have tried out for your little outfit. Besides, I need to keep in peak perfection because it’s great for my sex life.”
“Speaking of which: how does that work? I can’t imagine that they let the fraternization rules go that much.”
“Well, I’m sure like the Navy, they’re still officially on the books, but no one really wants to enforce them anymore,” she laughed. “I mean, if we don’t win, it’s not going to matter in the long run. And it’s better to allow someone to find ‘their true love’ or what passes for that right now rather than humanity gets to a collective ‘lie back and think of England’ situation, right?”
“Speaking of your beau, where’s Keith at? I’d figure he’d be here doing this as well,” Jessica asked.
“Normally he would, but he’s got other plans, namely a welcome BBQ for you at our place tonight,” Chrysalis told her.
“That really isn’t necessary,” Jessica insisted.
“It kinda is, believe me: we don’t really get enough downtime around here as is, so having you show up will really help him to take some R&R, because I really, really don’t want him to burn out because of this.” Chrysalis’ eyes radiated worry. “We’re already having to doublehat because we’re shorthanded, but if we have to push even harder because of this upcoming operation, I don’t want him to burn both candles to the point that he’ll virtually kill himself.”
“Little possessive, Chrys?” Jessica joked.
The other woman grinned. “Let’s just say that spies like me don’t often find someone they mesh with, so we take what we can get. And that goes double in wartime.”
“Well, I’ve got to do my daily shooting,” Jessica said, “so I’ll be there later.”
“Shooting? Mind if I join you?” Chrysalis asked. “I need to keep up my quals.” She grinned and added, “I’ve got the base record for a DMR. Pissed off some of the actual marksmen that are here, too.”
Jessica couldn’t help but whistle in appreciation. “How’d you pull that off?”
“Hey, when a girl’s gotta pretend to be a bubble-headed British girl in order to seduce a French officer so she can get into a particular hotel room so she can be in position to assassinate an Iranian operative planning a hit in the hotel across the street, you have to be good, because generally you only get one shot, especially when you have to dispose of the rifle immediately afterwards and go back to screwing the Froggie even though we’re talking ugly city, because you need plausible deniability, you do what you have to do.”
“That sounds suspiciously specific,” Jessica noted.
“It pays to be flexible in my occupation – at no time did I mention said commandante was male, did I?” Chrysalis shrugged. “Let’s just say I retired from that part of the job once the war started and call it that, okay?”